


Don't Look

by ShadowyTwilight



Series: Hope is a Fragile Thing [5]
Category: Alpha and Omega - Patricia Briggs
Genre: F/M, Getting to Know Each Other, Leah is dead, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, bran needs love too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:36:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27141188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowyTwilight/pseuds/ShadowyTwilight
Summary: Tamarind has a nightmare and it's up to Bran to comfort her.
Relationships: Bran Cornick/Original Character(s)
Series: Hope is a Fragile Thing [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1928386
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Don't Look

Tamarind knew she was dreaming.

It was a nightmare.

It had to be.

Please.

“Oh honey, it’s not a dream. You know better.” His voice was silky smooth, just as she remembered. Phantom fingers in her hair made her stomach roll, and she whimpered as the soft caress slowly became a fist full of her hair. Tightening pressure turned quickly from uncomfortable to painful.

“Did I say you could look at me, Tamarind?”

It was going to be that dream.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she angled her head in submission. “Please wake up, please wake up, please wake--”

A hand around her throat silenced her whispered prayer. Tamarind choked, dangling from an iron grip, hands frantic for any grip on his unforgiving body. She lashed out with her legs and connected with his body. With a roar, he launched her across the room. Her arm breaking had sounded nothing like the movies, neither had the scream she made. The blood was warm on her chest as she cradled her broken and bleeding arm, trying to hide herself against the wall while he stalked across the floor. A wave of pain combined with his deliberate footsteps made her want to puke. Even with the eager noises he made, Tamarind missed the move that brought him to her. He backhanded her, the force of his blow cracking her head against the wall. The ringing in her ears took her a moment to realize that the wolflike keening was coming from her. He hit her again, silencing her with a split her lip to match the cut over her eye. 

“Why do you make me do this, Tamarind? Why can’t you just do as your fucking told?” The snarl in his throat told just how close he was to change. “What is it going to take to get it through that empty little head of yours? You are nothing, Tamarind. You exist to serve the pack however your Alpha commands. You’re lucky that we take such good care of you. Not everyone would be this patient with you and--”

“ **Wake up.** ”

Tamarind narrowly missed cracking heads with Bran as she launched herself out of bed. She made it to the bathroom just in time to throw up the contents of her stomach. It didn’t taste anywhere near as good going this direction. By the time she settled down into dry heaving, it occurred to Rynn that someone was holding her hair back and crooning softly in what sounded like Welsh. A deep calming breath in through her nose surrounded her with the clean scent of snow and pine trees. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and tottered to her feet. Bran grabbed her elbow to steady her, the feel of his fingers burning into her skin. She was really awake. 

“Thank you.” 

Two days to a full moon meant that moonlight poured through the window, in generous reassurance. It slipped across her arms as she leaned over the sink to catch some water in her mouth and rinse it out. 

“What’s his name?” Rynn jerked, looking up at him in the mirror. 

Pitch black eyes stared back at her.

Goosebumps raced down her arms. It felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Swallowing thickly, she looked down at the counter, canting her head to the side. Just like her dream, submission had her empty stomach rolling with tension. He was close enough now that she could feel the heat of him radiate through her cotton t-shirt. Rynn rubbed her collarbone, fear rolling off her in waves. The growl from behind her sounded inhuman.

But it was human Bran who grabbed her arm, holding it for a moment. His grip was gentle, despite his wolf eyes. 

“Did he do this?” His thumb rubbed gently over a silvered scar on her forearm.

“Yes.” Her whisper was barely more than silence. “His name is Jameson Martin, and he’s--he’s my husband.” Another growl from Bran, but his thumb didn’t stop its gentle caress.

Rynn risked a peek at his face, but it was Bran who saw brief wolfshine fade in the moonlight. Standing in a darkened bathroom with America’s most dominant werewolf didn’t scare Rynn as much as it interested her shy wolf. 

“If you go back to sleep, will you dream of him again?”

His soft question made her realize she was still looking at him, and he didn’t seem to mind. She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, not seeing the eager way his eyes seemed to follow. 

“I--I don’t know. Probably. It doesn’t usually end there, and sometimes I’ll have dreams repeatedly until I finish them.”

Looking past him into the bedroom, she felt a shiver of fear at the thought of returning to Jameson, even in sleep. 

“Well, if you don’t mind, we could watch something on Netflix until you’re ready to sleep. I might be able to ward your sleep tomorrow, but this at least might fix tonight.”

Her head whipped back to Bran, and she squinted at him suspiciously, “Why?”

“Three reasons,” he began to tick them off on his fingers, “ Because you’re my pack, and because no one deserves to dream dreams like that, and lastly, which this is the most important, because you look like someone who enjoys watching ‘The Great British Baking Show.’ No one will watch it with me.”

The tension melted from her shoulders as she laughed. “Okay, that’s fair. And I do like, ‘The Great British Baking Show.’”

Bran held out his elbow in a mocking court gesture, “Then shall we adjourn to the couch?”

The smile she flashed at him nearly brought him to his knees, “We shall.”

As they headed down the hallway to the den, two things occurred to Tamarind simultaneously. One was that Bran was still holding her hand, and it sent tingles and shocks down the length of her arm, and the second was that Jameson was still somewhere in California, but this time she wasn’t alone.


End file.
